


A Very Drarry December

by JuniorWoofles



Series: Festive Fics [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuniorWoofles/pseuds/JuniorWoofles
Summary: 31 ficlets of Drarry fluff for the month of December. That is all





	1. Walk

The weather was getting colder. There was a slight nip in the air when you went out that was fiercer than it used to be and the winds sometimes whistled right through all of the thick, cosy layers you were now required to wear when you left the house for fear of catching a cold otherwise. Underfoot there was a light dusting of frost that crunched under winter boots and reminded you with every step that the seasons were changing. It was like the falling of leaves and the crackle they make that signals that Autumn is well underway except this was colder, purer.

The tall fir trees stood proudly showing off their colours on either side of the pathway the two men walked on; stretching so tall that they were almost bowing to become a canopy roof, sheltering the men from the winter winds and the rest of the world. One of the men motioned towards the foliage and made a joke that caused the other to shove him away slightly. But only slightly. Their hands still held tight in each other’s grasp in a way that had nothing to do with the bitter chill in the air. Their gloves would have been strong enough to keep the chill away but this hand holding was a symbol of something much stronger, more powerful than wool.

The one who made the joke laughed at the shove but immediately tucked himself back into the side of the other as they continued to make their way along the path. The winter sky was a bleached grey but they didn’t see it beyond the trees that were helping them stay in a little world of their own: a world where it was just the two of them with the wind gently blowing the branches of the firs and the sharp little crunch of frost below their feet. They didn’t even know how long they had been walking for, and indeed they wouldn’t until they came to the end of their current path and realised how quickly the navy of the night sky had started to appear. It was winter now and they had less time to take leisurely walks outside in the cold.

It was magical, the crunch barely a breathy whisper and the trees just a green smudge on the sides of their vision, so engrossed in each other they were. They did not need to look where they were going. They knew that their feet would guide them to where they needed to go. They knew when the trees thinning and became sparser that they would exit the park and walk the same old pavements back to their tiny apartment. They could walk on auto-pilot and not pay attention to anything but their walking partner. They did not need to see anything else. They did not need to look where they were going, nor where they had been. And besides, why did they need to go anywhere when they were together?


	2. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey non-white Harry referenced in this one

The snow was falling in a fast flurry of fluffy flakes. It was an unrelenting dance of miniature clouds falling down, down, down and piling up into a mountain of pure white just outside the window. Outside the world was slowly becoming enshrouded by a thick veil of white but inside they were protected from the veil touching them. There was the thick wide window of the front room, through which they were watching as the world became fuzzy and clouded until they could no longer see the next street over, then the other side of the street, then the streetlight just outside their house, then anything that was more than a foot from the window. On either side of the window was the thick curtains, old and stuffy and completely unglamorous, but kept up for occasions such as this when they needed an extra layer of protection to keep the chill outside. Along the back wall there was a squishy old couch that looked marginally better than the curtains due to the hominess provided by the sole cushion that remained on it.

The rest of the pillows were on the floor, propped up against the back of the couch so that the two people under the thick blanket could sit up against the sofa with their feet stretched out towards the fire roaring gently in the grand fireplace embedded in the wall.

The fire cast a soft golden glow across the room that felt so much smaller than it normally did due to the shadows cast but the flaming flickers and the snowfall from outside creating shadowed patterns dancing on the inside of the room as well as outside. Their gentle whispers added to the ambience: a perfect moment they were content to live in.

On top of the knitted blanket (a gift from a family they had both at times never thought they’d be a part of) their fingers were interlaced: fingers as white as the fresh snowfall to match the hands of his love with their hue of burning logs. They could sit for hours like this, talking about everything and nothing, their day, the excitement and the mundane, the weather, the plans for the weekend, how friends were doing, how Quidditch teams were doing, when they should go shopping, when they were next due to look after Teddy.

If you were to walk past their window, and you’d have to go right up next to it to even see past the snowfall to see inside, then all you would be able to make out on their little stage shrouded by those ruby, velvet curtains, would be a soft orange glow lighting up the features of two people who despite their differences in appearances, would have the same look of pure adoration and love on their features. You would see them surrounded by the warmth of the fire, surrounded by the gentleness of whispered conversation, the gentleness of a thick snowfall, and completely, happily surrounded by love.


	3. Baby

Teddy was attempting to pull himself up by the table leg while Harry gently encouraged him. In the kitchen Draco was keeping an eye on the pots bubbling away on the stove and he kept smiling to himself every time he heard Teddy’s little giggle. When the soup was ready he poured it into bowls (making sure that all the lumps were mashed down in Teddy's) and levitated them through to the living room with the board of bread. As soon as he stepped into the room Teddy turned and his smile grew larger until he was beaming his wide little toothy smile, and pointing at Draco.

“Ma-ma!”

Draco’s eyes grew wider and the bowls stopped in their tracks as both he and Harry turned to stare at the little baby on the floor.

“What was that?” Draco managed to ask.

Harry turned to him with a lost expression and tears starting to form in his eyes. “I don't know? Do we call his grandma?”

“I just wanted this moment to stay happy for a bit longer before he got old enough to ask questions about them.”

“Pop!” Teddy exclaimed, laughing and giggling with no notice to the fear and anguish the adults were facing.

Draco took the last step fully into the room and waved his wand quickly to put the bowls and board down on the coffee table before crossing over to Harry. He sat down next to his boyfriend at the same time that Harry pulled Teddy into his arms. He pressed a hard kiss to the top of Teddy’s head as Draco put his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Teddy started wriggling and Harry loosened his hold on the toddler enough so that he could turn around in Harry’s arms so he was facing them. He reached out with one chubby hand and forced half of Harry’s mouth into a smile. “Popper!” he cried.

“Ma...ma,” he said pointing to Draco as though this cleared everything up.

“What?” Draco said, almost on the verge of tears himself.

“Ma!” Teddy nodded.

“Ma?” Draco said incredulously, “How can I be ma in Teddy’s mind?!”

“Hey, Teddy, what do you mean ma?”

Teddy stared at them both, absorbing their words before he changed his hair from the mousey brown it had been previously to a bleached blonde. “Ma… Maf… Mafoy!”

“Sweet Merlin,” Draco whispered as Harry started to laugh with the tears spilling down his cheek. “I hate you sometimes.”

Teddy saw the smiles appearing on their faces and clapped his little hands together while his hair grew shaggier and darker until it was falling into his eyes. “Popper!”

“Yeah that's right, baby. Malfoy and Potter.”

“I definitely hate you,” Draco smiled. “But I love you too.”

“I love you both too, my little family.” Harry leaned over and kissed Draco quickly before they both turned their attention back to the darling child that they loved like a son and who loved them back, despite all of their parenting fears.


	4. Decorations

Their eyes were locked across the room as they held on tightly to their own box of decorations. They had been stood like this for minutes, letting the seconds stretch on and on before them. They both had too much pride and a strong streak of stubbornness that ran through them that made them want to beat the other. It was one of those traits from the high school days that still hadn’t faded, although the edge of animosity had disappeared as they got to know each other and went from enemies to friends to lovers. But still there were days when the old flames of competition rose again and they wouldn’t budge on their stance a little. This so happened to be one of those days, year after year.

“Why do we still have this debate? You know how it ends,” Harry said.

“You’re the one who won’t give me decorating control!” Draco snapped back.

“I don’t need Slytherin colours all over my house!”

“They’re Christmas colours!”

“So are Gryffindor colours but you won’t let me do that either!”

“I am _not_ letting you decorate the house, Potter. Not after last time.”

“Seriously? That was two years ago and it was an accident! I didn’t decide to do that on purpose.”

“Potter, the whole house smelt like pumpkins until December. I still don’t know how you managed to get burnt pumpkin all over the kitchen and living room anyway.”

“I thought we agreed to let it go.”

“And we did but it’s the reason I’m not letting you decorate again.”

“Okay, so what if I don’t decorate by myself and we do it together?”

“It’s Christmas! We were going to decorate the house together anyway because that’s what we do and it’s a fun time!”

“I get that, Malfoy, but we’re not doing it in Slytherin colours!”

“Okay, _Potter,_ but we’re not doing Gryffindor colours!”

The stare down continued as they both refused to back down and concede to the point of the other.

“Well, frankly, I think you’re both idiots,” Hermione stated, coming into the room with a plate of gingerbread cookies. “Red and green together is the most Christmassy colour scheme you could do and then decorate it together. You live in this house _together_ so celebrate that by putting your house colours _together._ Honestly you two are unbelievable sometimes,” she muttered with a shake of her head, heading back to the kitchen to help Ron tidy up.

“When did Hermione get here?” Harry asked.

“Two hours ago. She came over for your usual coffee catch up and she had some new spells for decorating she was going to teach us.”

“Oh, she has a point though.”

“Well she is the brightest of her ago for a reason,” Harry laughed, finally setting his box down and beginning to take out the decorations out. Draco rolled his eyes fondly before pulling out his own decorations and laying his green tinsel and silver baubles down next to Harry’s decorations.


	5. Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sappy domestic fluff is what I live off of.

“Honey, I'm home,” Harry called as he tried to juggle the boxes of papers in his arms with the key in the lock. He was the one who insisted on Muggle technology being all over his house, and used it to either confuse or educate Draco, but it was times like this he wished he could use just a small little spell to make his current predicament easier. 

“What on earth are you doing?” Draco asked, running to help him by taking one of the boxes out of Harry’s arms to make to easier for him, as Harry kicked the door closed. 

“I didn't want to apparate in with the boxes because the lids can't fit on them and I was scared of losing some of these papers because they're kind of important.”

“You work too hard, babe,” Draco said, grabbing another one. 

“I know, I know but if I get them finished now then I can spend more time off around Christmas to spend with you.”

“Fine, but after the New Year we need to talk about you working less. No buts, you work too hard and you need to slow down a bit before you overwork yourself.”

Harry placed the third box down on the floor and started to unwrap his scarf. Draco piled the two boxes he had on top of it and took Harry’s scarf from him to hang it up on one of the ornamental coat hooks behind him while Harry took his gloves off. When they were off he stuffed them in his coat pockets and he shrugged his coat off into Draco’s waiting hands so it could also be hung up. 

“Thanks,” Harry said gratefully, taking Draco’s hand and kissing it quickly before he lead them down their narrow hallway to the living room. They didn't get far as Draco stopped them at the threshold of the room. 

“What is it?” Harry asked. 

“Look up,” Draco smirked. 

Harry looked up at the garland of holly and ivy that was decorating the doorway. Right at the centre of it, almost directly above their heads, was a perfect spring of mistletoe, dark little leaves around tiny, cream flowers. 

“Really?” laughed Harry. 

“You're not the only one who's been busy,” Draco smirked again as he leaned in to kiss Harry with a secret smile, knowing about the surprise he had laid out for his tired boyfriend. He'd spent the past hour preparing the living room with candles levitating all over the room, laid out a selection of snack food and set up their couch with the thickest, fluffiest blankets they owned. He'd spent most of the time trying to figure out how to get the telly working but now he had it on with a video in the machine ready to play (it was totally worth the time spent getting frustrated with Muggle technology for the look on Harry’s face when he finally understood something). But for now he kept his secret and enjoyed the kiss. 


	6. Snowflakes

They were both wrapped up in preparation for going outside: thick gloves and knitted hats and their old House scarves wrapped tightly around their necks. The ends of the green and silver scarf was tucked neatly into the charcoal coat whereas the ends of the red and gold scarf was left hanging down. With one last check that they had everything they left their house, locked the door with a Muggle key and a quick whisper of an incantation, and then set off. They started off down the lane, pointing out the decorations that the houses around them had set up for the festive season, before they turned down a little side alley that served no purpose for the Muggles of their community except to serve as an eyesore, or a good hiding place for the children of the neighbourhood to play games in. For the wizards and magical folk who lived amongst them it was the perfect out of place spot to apparate from when they didn’t want to directly apparate in or out of houses. The two men squeezed their interlocked fingers extra tight before they were turning on the spot and being transported away from their quaint little neighbourhood and into a village in Scotland they both knew so well. 

They wandered down Hogsmeade at a leisurely pace; not needing to rush or be out of their quickly. The winter term at Hogwarts would still be on and the students would not be coming out in their usual droves on their allowed weekends so they were guaranteed peace and freedom away from their inquiring young minds. They could peruse the shops and pick up a few Christmas gifts in peace without having to worry about being spotted or questioned or harassed by interested or confused students who would no doubt recognise at least one of their faces. But the street was quiet and peaceful for a Wednesday and they could take their time browsing the trinkets and offers. 

They came out of Honeydukes laden with boxes of sweets supposedly bought for the children in their lives but they both knew they’d end up eating far more of it than what they’d give away. Just as they turned to head up to the Three Broomsticks to meet Neville for a drink the snow began to fall around them. It came in gentle swirls - little hurricanes of soft white fluff. It settled around their shoulders and on top of their hats and began to collect around the windows and doors of the buildings lining the street. It danced around them, hypnotising and calming at the same time, caught in the December winds as it blew up and around them while still falling down. They stopped there, in the middle of the street, and let just let the snowflakes fall onto their gloves so they could watch them melt away in the palms of their hands. They stood like that for maybe a minute simply watching the flakes flutter by.

 


End file.
